


The Fight

by riddlemetitillatedhiddles (ninecats)



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Angry Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninecats/pseuds/riddlemetitillatedhiddles





	The Fight

Placing the key into the lock, you turn carefully, holding your breath. You were supposed to be home 2 hours ago. _Maybe he's already asleep_ , you hope to yourself. The hinges creak quietly as you begin to enter, and you pause. Hearing no sounds, you finish opening the door and there he is.

"Tom! You scared the shit out of me." You brush past him, trying to pretend nothing's wrong. Of course something is wrong. It's been wrong.  You've been fighting constantly and you dreaded coming home tonight. So you ignored his texts, ignored his calls, and stayed out at the bar with friends instead. 

"So now you don't even answer your fucking phone?" He's on your heels, following you closely, his voice overflowing with anger. 

"Sorry, I was just out with friends. I didn't know that wasn't allowed," you remark, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

He grabs your arm, twisting you around to face him. "I was worried."

You jerk your arm away. "Worried about what? Worried about me being hurt? Or worried that maybe I'm fucking someone else?" You can see it in his face. It's the same every single time. You can't even hang out with friends without him erupting into an insecure, possessive asshole. "Can you fucking relax with the jealousy bullshit?"

"Well, did you? Did you fuck someone else?" He hisses, approaching you closer and closer until finally he backs you up against the wall. Leaning into your neck, he inhales audibly. "Is that another man I smell on you?"

"Fuck you, Tom. I'm not going to play this game tonight," you reply impassively, pushing him away and heading towards the stairs. "I'm going to bed. You can have the couch."

Running after you, he grabs you by the wrist. "I don't think so. You're not walking away from me again. You do this every fucking time!"

"Stop it!" You slip from his grasp and start up the stairs. "I'm going to bed. I am not dealing with you when you're like this."

"You make me like this! You do it on purpose! You don't let me know you're going to be late, then you pretend it's nothing. Like I'm nothing."

"God you're so dramatic, Tom," you sigh, rolling your eyes. Suddenly, Tom runs past you on the stairs, turning to face you and preventing you from going any farther.

"Stop it. I mean it." His jaw clenching, nostrils flaring.

"Or what?" You giggle, the alcohol clouding your judgment somewhat, but the frustration has been building. All talk, no action. You angle your body just enough to brush against the front of his pants, biting your lip flirtatiously. Your voice drips saccharine as you taunt him. "What, Tom? Are you going to do something? Huh? Or are you just going to stand there, like usual?"

Tom stares at you, furious, but ultimately his gaze falls to the floor, and he remains silent. Shaking your head, you turn away again. "That's what I thou…"

Before you can finish your sentence his arm is around your waist, pulling you towards him, his hand curled between your legs. "Is this what you want, then? Is it?!"

You struggle, but as he rubs his growing erection against your ass, you can't help but become aroused. He's never been so aggressive; after all the talk, all the fighting, in the end he always just gives up. "Stop it…" Your voice barely a whisper, and you can barely convince yourself, let alone Tom.

"You want me to stop…" he breathes into your ear. "Is that really what you want? Because I don't believe you." He snakes his hand around your neck, pulling your head back, his other hand on your crotch.

"Tom…" 

Lowering you down onto the stairs, he grabs under your shirt, pawing at your breasts. "Well, what do you want? You want this?" His breath is so hot against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't… " You long for contact. It's been at least two weeks since you've been at each other's throats and you haven't had sex the whole time. Finally, you admit it: "Yes." On your hands and knees, the weight of his body against you, it's all making you so wet. This is different. This is not like him. And you like it.

"What do you want? Say it." His voice colder now, he flips your skirt up, then slides his hand down into the front of your panties, rubbing against your clitoris.

"I want you…" You are whimpering now, desperate, and he knows it.

"You want what, darling? Suddenly you aren't so bloody confident, are you? Fine," he growls, pulling his hands away.

"No, Tom, please… I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me." Your head down on the stair now, embarrassed. 

"Show me."

"What?"

"Is your pussy wet for me? I want to see it. _Show me_." It's a simple directive, and coming from him it sounds so filthy, so crass. So hot. You are now aching for him. Slowly, you pull your panties down exposing your dripping cunt. "You are wet, aren't you? Spread your legs wider."

You inhale sharply, shocked and excited by this new, assertive Tom. He tugs your panties completely off so that you can move more freely. You spread your legs as much as you can, pushing your ass into the air and arching your back.

Behind you, Tom chuckles softly and you can hear him unzip his pants. He places his cock inside your entrance, and without saying a word, pushes into you so roughly you yelp.

"Yes, you like that? Tell me," he commands, his hands now on yours, holding you down as he pummels you harder and harder.

"Yes," you stutter, trying to work through the discomfort, his cock hitting you deeper than he's ever gone before. 

"Say my name," his voice is low and husky, panting in your ear. 

"Tom. I like it, Tom. I like… oh god."

"Touch yourself, you know you want to." His pace slows briefly as you begin to massage your tender clitoris. He pushes your shirt up and unhooks your bra, pinching and twisting your nipples. 

"Tom," you cry out, half in pleasure, half in pain, but he ignores you, his mouth against your neck, teeth against tender skin. Your rub yourself frantically as his pace increases. You know he will not wait for you tonight.

"Fuck, yes," he groans and you can tell he is close. He moves his legs around yours and angles himself so that he is now thrusting down into you. The combination of gravity and this new position is deliciously intense, his cock pushing deeper and deeper.

"Oh god," your orgasm teases you, giving you little hints then retreating, the frustration unbearable. Finally, Tom grabs your waist, and you feel it, your walls tightening around his length as you cry out, "Tom!"

"Yes, fuck," suddenly he pulls out of you, pushing you onto your back. Your eyes meet and he grabs you by the hair, pulling you towards him. Taking his cock in your mouth, you suck every bit of yourself off him until he comes hot and flowing onto your tongue. 

Collapsing next to you, Tom drapes his arm across your stomach. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, and you watch as his breathing gradually slows. "I'm sorry I'm so jealous, darling. I don't mean to be. I just love you so much."

Sighing, you run your fingers through his hair, staring into his translucent aquamarine eyes. "I"m sorry, too. I need to talk to you instead of letting things build up. I love you, Tom."

He turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "Amazing makeup sex, though, right?" 

"Best. Ever." 


End file.
